Stepping out of the director’s office, Soren drifted toward the dormitory on light feet.
Once well clear of that floor, the sullen expression on his face melted away like snow under a blazing sun, replaced by a dreamlike daze.
In that state, the weight of the package might as well have vanished, and the orphanage children he passed along the way disappeared from his awareness entirely.
Only a few breaths seemed to pass before he found himself back at the dormitory.
The familiar smell hit his nose and he realized he’d arrived, without the slightest ache in his body.
No time for woolgathering.
Heart hammering, he forced himself to stay calm and packed his belongings with brisk efficiency.
After nearly four and a half years at this orphanage, he didn’t own much: some clothes, school supplies, the bare necessities.
Everything else, from entertainment and comfort items to household appliances, was shared among the children.
He dug two secondhand rolling suitcases out of the storage room, donations from a charity, and crammed everything inside.
Packing done.
Bags secured, he grabbed a broom and rag from the washroom and scrubbed his locker and furniture clean for the next occupant.
By the time the staff Director Brent had sent came looking, they found a spotless bed that stood in sharp contrast to the messier areas nearby.
“Soren, dear, you’re always the easiest one to look after!”
Alyssa, the plump caretaker, beamed at him and didn’t skimp on the praise.
Then she reached out with her thick, sturdy arms and hoisted the two big suitcases he’d left for her, lifting them as easily as dinner plates.
Soren thanked her politely and followed her to his new quarters.
Thanks to Professor Snape’s thoughtful arrangements, Director Brent had assigned him a private room normally reserved for children recovering from illness.
Between Soren’s stream of compliments, Alyssa went to work at full throttle.
She had the room tidied and fresh linens on the bed in no time.
The rest of the setup Soren would handle himself.
Alyssa had other places to be.
In a sprawling orphanage like this, there was always more work than the caretakers could keep up with.
Soren saw her off politely, waited until she rounded the corner, then shut the door and turned the lock with a soft click.
He turned and surveyed his “private mansion.” The heat that had been building in his chest finally escaped in a long, heavy breath through his nose.
It had been eleven years since he was reborn into this world.
Four full years since he’d awakened his magic and gained the system.
His legendary journey had finally taken its first step, albeit in a manner…
slightly different from what he’d imagined.
But no matter.
He’d crossed the threshold between the ordinary and the extraordinary.
A wider stage awaited.
“Life, huh?”
Soren shook his head in wonder.
He wandered to the window and gazed out at the bright sky.
Even the clouds looked prettier than usual, the distant horizon feeling close enough to touch.
A bird swept across the frame, lending the scene a flicker of life, and the corners of his mouth tugged upward.
After a few quiet minutes soaking in the view, he drew the curtains, switched on the overhead light, and placed the textbook parcel flat on the desk.
He drew a deep breath.
His fingers trembled with excitement as he unwrapped the package with careful hands.
A thick stack of books emerged.
The one on top bore gilded letters across its cover: Magical Theory, by Adalbert Waffling.
The title alone told you everything about its standing in the magical world, roughly on par with Principia Mathematica in the Muggle realm, the bedrock upon which physics itself was built.
The “father of magical theory” had poured his life’s work into these pages, giving young witches and wizards their first solid foundation in the art.
He opened it.
The pages of this secondhand copy had yellowed slightly and carried the faint scent of ink, as if the magic of the years had settled into the paper itself.
The text wasn’t ordinary print but had been written with a special magical ink that remained sharp and fresh no matter how many decades had passed.
Every letter seemed alive, dancing across the page, guiding the reader into an entirely new world.
The prologue offered a concise overview of magic’s origins, its essential nature, and the laws governing its development.
From the evolution of ancient magic into its modern forms, to complex principles and their applications, to legendary anecdotes and lore, it touched on a bit of everything, glossing over only the topics deemed unsuitable for young wizards to explore in depth.
Soren devoured the knowledge like a man dying of thirst.
This wasn’t merely a theoretical treatise; it read more like an encyclopedia of magic, laying out a comprehensive and systematic framework for any beginner witch or wizard.
He cradled the book with reverent care, lost in its pages.
From this moment on, his magical journey had found its true track, and his destiny lay gripped more firmly in his own hands than ever before.
Reading.
Understanding.
Thinking.
Time slipped away unnoticed.
Soren poured every ounce of himself into learning, tuning out the world beyond his walls.
Inside the room, the soft rustle of fingertips turning pages was the only sound.
In the stillness, sunlight crept through a gap in the curtains and fell across the boy hunched over his book, rimming him in warm gold.
His brow knitted, then eased, then knitted again as he sank deeper into the pure joy of discovery.
As the hours crawled on, the light from outside angled steadily westward, and summer’s heat retreated alongside the sun.
At some point, a warm evening breeze nudged the curtain.
A corner of the plain fabric flopped onto the open pages, startling the absorbed reader out of his trance.
Soren’s head snapped up, alert.
When he registered that it was only a gust of wind stirring the curtain, he exhaled and became aware of the dry, heavy ache in his eyes.
A glance at the wall clock told him it was seven in the evening.
He had a vague memory of making a couple of trips to the washroom, but the details were blurry.
Grrrrgl…
Typical.
The moment he acknowledged how long it had been, his stomach staged a revolt, growling loud enough to embarrass him.
Going by the orphanage’s schedule, he’d missed both lunch and dinner, unlocking the rare achievement of going hungry twice in one day.
“Why didn’t anyone come get me…”
Soren closed the book in frustration, poured himself a cup of water from the kettle, drained it in one go, and headed for the door.
He turned the lock and pushed.
Something scraped against the bottom of the doorframe with a soft clatter.
He peered down.
A food-laden tray sat on the floor outside, with a handwritten note tucked beneath the cutlery.
Mystery solved.
Someone had come to call.
He’d simply been too absorbed to hear a thing.
Good thing Director Brent had arranged special treatment for him, sparing the future Supreme Wizard from going to bed on an empty stomach.
Grateful, Soren carried the tray back inside.
He ate while pulling up the system to check what his first encounter with magical knowledge had earned him.
[Achievement System] [Wizarding World Achievement Page] [Important Notice: Magical world intelligence has been collected.
New subcategories are being organized.
Please continue reading to acquire more magical world information and assist the system with its update.]
“…”
The moment he read that notification, the food in his mouth lost all flavor.
Soren stared at the interface for a long moment, then swallowed the bread with robotic detachment.
“I knew better than to get my hopes up.
But come on.
You’re embarrassingly useless.
The books are right there and you can’t even gather intelligence on your own?”
The system offered no response, as inert and emotionless as a rock.
“Whatever…
you useless piece of junk…”
Life was hard.
Soren sighed.